Finding Yourself
by Hollywoodx4
Summary: "...You're lying to yourself and that really pisses me off. Can you really look in the mirror and say that you're happy with the way you are, the person you've become? Do you think Beth would be proud of you?" Shelby has a talk with her daughter's mother.


**(I had to post this before the episode came out. Mostly because I knew something like this was going to happen from the moment I heard Idina was coming back, and I didn't want to seem like I was copying the episode.)**

**A good song to listen to with this fic is Rumours by Adele. It's the song that was playing my my head while this unwraveled in my mind during math class a few weeks ago. Enjoy!**

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><p>The hallway was near-silent. Only one piercing sound accompanied the muffled voices and shuffling that had been muted by the closed doors of classrooms. It was the clicking of heeled boots on the linoleum flooring, but not the too-familiar sound of a teacher's high-heeled shoes-that one had been painstakingly memorized by the students at a very young age. No, these were boots; thick, dark, high-laced boots with silvery accents that only made them stand out more as those of intimidation. The owner of the boots resembled what they were exactly; a façade, a fake. They were knock-offs, and so was Quinn Fabray.<p>

She had never even dreamed of cutting class until this moment. Although her good-girl morals still stuck with her, making her shake within her knock-off boots and lace tights, she powered forward, determined to make a name for herself that would forever replace the over-told story of _Baby-Mama Fabray_ _and the child she gave away. _She was tired. Tired of one mistake following her throughout her life. Tired of the stares, the fake smiles, the fake _friendships. _She knew people still talked about her. It was hard to escape a life of constant torment when all you wish is that you had once more chance, one more time to do it right.

When she dyed her hair pink, Quinn Fabray imagined herself draining every inch of her past self along with her color. It had worked so well before, when she had been Lucy and everything had fallen to shit for her, so why couldn't it work now?

_This isn't you, that's why._

Everything about transforming herself to Quinn in the first place had been about self improvement; a new life and a new name, a change in pace from the teasing and torment she'd faced. She'd narrowly escaped a bout with childhood diabetes and given herself a reason to be proud, a reason for her _parents _to be proud. She'd given herself a new life and she'd thrown it all away on a passing impulse of feigned passion.

As Quinn walked down the hall she stopped upon hearing a strangely familiar noise. Her perfectly plucked eyebrow quirked in confusion and she put her hand on her hip. It was as if she were in front or an imaginary audience; but Quinn didn't need an audience-she was used to being alone. She continued to walk toward the noise, stopping in front of an open doorway. Shelby Corcoran sat at her computer, smiling at the screen and talking as if somebody was there with her. Quinn poked her head into the room and watched as the older woman interacted with her computer, making cooing noises and waving at her screen. Noticing the girl's presence, Shelby looked up from her screen, a look of curiosity immediately replaced with one of both tense anger and confusion.

"Quinn." Shelby closed the window of her computer and waved the pink-haired girl over, gesturing to a seat in front of her desk. Even the motions in these simple gestures seemed forced, as if it gave her pain and aggravation to even have the girl in the room with her. Quinn noticed and frowned, but covered her pained expression with the shell of her hard exterior. She wasn't going to let another person have the satisfaction of giving her pain. "I'm glad you're here, we need to talk."

"You seem glad to see me." Having ignored Shelby's gestures, she rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall next to her desk, arms crossed over her chest as she mumbled to herself.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray you listen to me right now!" Quinn didn't respond, but her expression became softer, one of pain and sorrow upon hearing the name that had once given her so much grief. Crossing the room she obeyed, sitting at one of the desks in front of Shelby's. The older woman now had her full attention.

"What do you want?"

"Do you know who I was just talking to over the computer, Quinn?" The younger of the two shook her head and crossed one leg over the other, laying her head on her hand for support. "It was your daughter, Beth." She paused for a moment, looking over the girl with the pink hair for any fault in her now returned hard, emotionless expression. When she saw none, she continued, looking Quinn right in her unchanged eyes. "Unless you've already forgotten her, that is." Quinn launched from her seat, standing in full attack mode before Shelby. Voice raised, her face became a shade resembling her cotton-candy hair, veins visibly making hills and little rivers on the soft, pale skin of her neck. Her hard exterior was cracking, but she let it.

"How dare you accuse me of forgetting my own daughter! I gave birth to her, I carried her for nine months! How could I ever forget?"

"The hair, the clothes, the attitude…Quinn, this isn't you. I don't blame you for what you did; I'll never blame you for making the right choice. You're the reason I even _have _a daughter. I'll always be thankful for that." She paused, sitting down in front of Quinn in a sign of resignation from their argument. Shelby took in a deep breath and then exhaled, trying to rid herself of the negative energy that had begun to build up inside of her. She didn't want to yell at Quinn, not when she knew that the girl had been through so much in her high school years alone. "I can't be thankful for the way you've been behaving lately, though."

"I've found myself, and all everybody's done has been complain to me about how much they hate the new me. But the thing is, this has always been me."

"You're lying. I don't care that you're lying to me-you can do that all you want-but you're lying to yourself and that really pisses me off. Can you really look in the mirror and say that you're happy with the way you are, the person you've become? Do you think Beth would be proud of you?" A sparkling collection of water had begun to form at the base of Quinn's dull hazel eyes and she hung her head in shame, knowing the answer to Shelby's question before she had even finished asking it. "I want you to be a part of Beth's life, but not like this. I want you to be a role model to her, someone she can look up to. I want her to be able to know you as the person you were when you had her; strong, independent…You never took crap from anybody. You were successful, and you loved what you did. What happened to that Quinn, the one with the lust for life and the love of the child she selflessly gave away?" When Quinn continued not to answer Shelby sighed again, moving to her desk to gather her things. She stopped in her tracks in the empty doorframe, looking at the frail, weak figure that was now slumped over the one occupied desk of her classroom. "When that Quinn comes back, could you let me know?"

Shelby turned around, but was stopped by the sound of a movement in the classroom. It was the same boots she'd heard clattering down the hallway just minutes before, but this time the sound had been deflated, more of a final thumping than the repetitive, stabbing sound she'd heard. As she looked back, a pair of thick black boots sat on the floor at the edge of her desk, accompanied by a pair of black gloves and a fake nose ring. A smile played at Shelby's mouth as she watched the younger girl discard the items, throwing them in the trash with a finality she knew was sincere. She smiled at Quinn and Quinn smiled back, walking over to meet her. As they walked down the hallway-a lean, beautiful new teacher and a disheveled, barefoot student-each wore the face of a new day; of a bond they had made themselves with one common tie. Before they parted, Quinn gave her one last, thankful look.

"I think the old Quinn is coming back sooner than she intended. And…" She paused, and before waving goodbye, she finally let her hard shell crack, a hesitant voice coming out in a volume that was audible, but closer to a whisper. "She'll be really happy to see her daughter."


End file.
